ought to have a wife with a certain amount of originality. Now, I
hardly know how far the opinion of your friends would influence you
in such a matter, but you may like to hear how fully they approve
your very open allegiance to--shall we say--the beautiful 'Stars and
Stripes'?"

Garth Dalmain took out his cigarette case, carefully selected a
cigarette, and sat with it between his fingers in absorbed
contemplation.

"Smoke," said Jane.

"Thanks," said Garth. He struck a match and very deliberately
lighted his cigarette. As he flung away the vesta the breeze caught
it and it fell on the lawn, flaming brightly. Garth sprang up and
extinguished it, then drew his chair more exactly opposite to Jane's
and lay back, smoking meditatively, and watching the little rings he
blew, mount into the cedar branches, expand, fade, and vanish.

Jane was watching him. The varied and characteristic ways in which
her friends lighted and smoked their cigarettes always interested
Jane. There were at least a dozen young men of whom she could have
given the names upon hearing a description of their method. Also,
she had learned from Deryck Brand the value of silences in an
important conversation, and the art of not weakening a statement by
a postscript.

At last Garth spoke.

"I wonder why the smoke is that lovely pale blue as it curls up from